More Than This
by martiansarepeopletoo
Summary: 'He's leading you towards the champion's line in front of the Hall doors now, and you're smiling and laughing and I can't stand it.' Ron's POV during and after the Yule Ball. Rated for language.


**Yay! More Romione! Because I'm not getting Deathly Hallows until Christmas, and I need to vent my romione love until I can watch the kiss again :) Also, just so you know, I wrote this while listening to One Direction's 'More Than This' (please don't judge me!) and I guess it kind of inspired this, so you can always listen to it while you read if you want. Yeah. Enjoy. :)**

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><p>You look <em>so<em> beautiful.

That's my first thought.

Your dress shimmers slightly as you move, the light blue of it sparkling and catching my breath. Your hair, plaited and twisted, curled and trailing, is shining just like your chocolate eyes, and your face is lit up. My heart stops, and I can't help wondering if I can somehow shrug Padma off and sort of pick you up on my way into the Hall. I'm sure she wouldn't mind, she doesn't appear to want to go with me anyway. But, just as I'm seriously considering this plan, I see _him_.

You're looking at him, and he's so obviously the reason your face looks like it's glowing with happiness. The moment your hands meet, I feel a jolt of jealously stab through me, and it's all I can do not to run over and beat the bastard senseless for daring to touch _my_ Hermione, for thinking he can ask the girl _I've_ loved for years to the ball. He's leading you towards the champion's line in front of the Hall doors now, and you're smiling and laughing and I can't stand it.

I. Can't. Stand. It.

I can't stand it I can't stand it I can't stand it.

'Ron, come on!' I vaguely hear Padma's voice in the distance, and though I feel her tug on my sleeve I barely notice it. I'm just looking at you, with anger shooting through my veins.

Because, the thing is, he can't have you. He can't.

Because you're _mine_.

Oh, fucking hell. You're dancing with him now. And he's got his hands all over you, the filthy bastard. I can tell how angry Padma's getting with me, but in all honesty I'm not getting up at this ball unless it's to dance with you. Surely you can _see_ that. But no, you're having the time of your life obviously, laughing as he spins you around. I cast my eyes around the dance floor to try and spot something, anything, to take my mind off you, but even the sight of Harry's panicked attempts to keep up with Parvati's brisk trot fails to amuse me. I just can't stop looking at _you_.

Okay, now you're walking over. Stay calm, Ron.

Well, that didn't work.

I'm sat in the common room, seething. That fucking sod. That fucking, fucking sod. I swear, if he walked in here right now, I'd have no problem killing him on the spot. I hear giggling in the corner, as Lavender and Seamus enjoy each other's company, and it only serves to make me angrier. Then, I hear a creaking. The portrait hole's opening, and I'm praying it's not you, it's not you, it's not you…

Oh. Hello, Hermione. Sorry, but I've had the image of you dancing with Krum burnt into my brain for the last four hours, and I'm afraid you're about the get the brunt of it.

'_What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?'_

'Ron?' You look confused.

'Dancing with that – that - '

'Ron! What is _wrong_ with you this evening? All I did was dance with him!'

'Oh, don't give me that,' I hiss, 'you know exactly what I mean.'

You're crying, and we carry on shouting. I don't want you to be upset, and I'll feel bloody awful about it later, but at the moment there's no room for any emotion other than pure anger.

'Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?' you yell.

'Oh yeah? And what's that?'

'Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!'

I'm speechless. Harry's arrived at some point in the, er, conversation, and he looks at me quizzically.

'Well – that – just – completely missed the point - '

I mumble all the way up the stairs to the dormitory and crawl into bed. Something sharp pokes my back as I roll over. I fumble under the sheets and find the miniature Krum that I bought months ago at the World Cup. He scowls at me, and I shake with fury.

'You – keep – your – fucking – hands – off – her.' I spit as I snap his arms and legs off. I think one arm slips off the bed, but I can't be bothered finding it so I set the rest of the miniature on fire and watch them burn. Then with a sigh, I lie down again, close my eyes, and hope no one will hear me cry.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and stuffs :)<strong>

**Iliketotastetherainbow x**


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